Apparel
by PhoenixJustice
Summary: Batman/Joker, set after The Killing Joke, with spoilers for the comics. Often Bruce would gain the advantage, even in these circumstances, no matter how deadly Joker would up the ante, but there was still that silent acknowledgement that *I see you, Bats.*


Apparel

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Batman is property of DC, not me. I only own this story.

Warning: Rated M for language, graphic sexual content, slash, etc.

Pairing: Batman/Joker.

Setting: Sometime after _The Killing Joke_, spoilers for comics to be expected.

Summary: Often Bruce would gain the advantage, even in these circumstances, no matter how deadly Joker would up the ante, but there was still that silent acknowledgement that _I see you, Bats._

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The Joker pants, a glove soiled with dirt and blood and water touching his stomach.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me, Bats?" Joker gasps, his voice thready from exertion.

They had been fighting for... well even _Bruce_ had lost track of how long. Longer than even _they_ usually fought. For every blow, Joker was back with one just as hard, just as potent, leaving Bruce no room for a breath, to try and think of his next move. Only Joker could ever bring him to that state; in all the years since Bruce had first taken up his Mission, even _superpowered_ people, who could do things that were sometimes _unfathomable _still could never surprise Bruce in precisely this way, could come at Bruce with this..._dance._

That's what he and Joker did, what they had always done...a deadly dance.

Because Joker, no matter how much Bruce would protest to him (or anyone else that might be listening) that they were not alike, only The Joker seemed to be able to read Bruce in this way. Where his fist would be met with teeth or knife (or gun), where his kick would be met. Often Bruce would gain the advantage, even in these circumstances, no matter how deadly Joker would up the ante, but there was still that silent acknowledgement that _I see you, Bats._

Only this time, despite how long they had been fighting one another, on the outskirts of Gotham, in a nothing piece of land of sparse grass and gravel, Joker had not escalated his fight with Bruce. He hadn't used a single knife or gun or tried to pull out anything hidden (in fact his searching on Joker's person in the usual places had only served to have Joker say "_Do it again, Bats." Joker breathes._)

And he didn't seem to be trying to delay for some other part of a plan that Bruce would have to try and figure out on the fly, as Joker often liked to do to 'keep him on his toes.' Nor...Bruce notes, as he comes to stand in front of the sitting Joker, did he seem to be angry. Or sad. Or something that Bruce could see which would incite this kind of extra fighting out of the clown.

Joker certainly didn't follow any usual patterns of a person, but all the same… Bruce knew him very well now, he thought. In the...ways that mattered. So this threw everything off.

"What is this about, Joker?" He finally asks, voice raspy.

Joker looks up at him, wiping at a cut above his eye, but only serving to smear the bright blood across his pale skin.

"What is this about, Joker?" Joker mimics, smirking. He looks away suddenly and for a moment, there is a surprising stillness to him, making him seem even smaller than he was. "What is this about?"

"Joker." Bruce says.

Joker starts, looking back up at Bruce. He starts to stand and Bruce watches the action warily, one fist ready to strike if Joker decided he wanted to take things back up, but Joker just sighs and shakes himself like a dog, sending dirt and things flying every which way. It's then that he truly notices the state of Joker's clothes.

They were _wrecked._

Even more so than usual. They had fought in so many ways now and so often that Bruce had lost count (though he wouldn't be surprised if Joker kept track of just how often they had) but even then Joker never seemed to lose so much of his clothing, like it had been ripped from him (how long _had_ they been fighting, really? Much of it was a blur of limbs and laughter to Bruce.)

After a moment Bruce pulls on one of the lapels of Joker's shirt (one of the only pieces of clothing left) and pulls him closer.

"Ah." Joker says, surprised, eyes wide. "If you wanted to spoon, Batsy, all you had to do was ask. I call Big Spoon."

"Come on." Bruce says, ignoring Joker's statement-and white skin that was most of his vision when looking at Joker, given the little left on him.

"Where to, chief?" Joker asks, surprisingly following Bruce's lead without any issue.

"Arkham." Bruce deadpans.

Joker sneezes. "You're no fun."

"I thought that was your job." Bruce quips.

It's silent. He hadn't meant to say that. But then Joker breaks the silence quickly.

"Yes well, can't blame a girl for wanting to try something different." Joker says, in a tone where Bruce just _knows_ he is pouting, even without having to look back at him. "Maybe _I _want to be the rodent who flies around all day."

"That would be the day." Bruce says dryly.

"I'd have to change up the look a bit though, darling." Joker babbles on. He can all but _hear_ him gesturing with his hands as he speaks. "You always dress so _drably; _no color in the bunch! Let me put the fear of magenta into Harvey and we can be sure he'd never want to see outside his cell wall in Arkham again!"

Bruce holds back a chuckle, which shocks him. He cannot remember the last time he had laughed-or _wanted_ to laugh. Especially with The Joker. No, the only time they had laughed had been…

He puts that thought away, and the suspicion of why Joker wanted to fight him, out of his mind and leads him to where he had parked the Batmobile. A quick press on his utility belt, still attached to him despite all their fighting, has the lights come on and a click has a side compartment, small and near the trunk but not quite there, open up. He pushes Joker against the car, ignoring The Joker's soft laughter at the hard movement, and kneels down, looking for something.

"While you're down there, I've had this itch on the back of my leg for the past couple of hours-"

He tunes out Joker and sifts through a few things, before finally deciding on what things to grab (ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that suspiciously reminded him of The Joker), closing the compartment back. He sets the items down on the car and grabs at Joker's hand.

"-and then I told Eddie if he didn't stop going on and on I'd take that cane of his and shove it deep in his...what are you doing, Bats?"

Bruce keeps from rolling his eyes with difficulty. Joker just now seemed to realize what Bruce was doing. It quiets Joker immediately and Bruce ignores the _itch _of tension, pulling Joker's gloves off one at a time, tossing them aside.

"Bats." Joker whispers.

Bruce ignores that too, but he cannot ignore the small hitch in Joker's breath when Bruce's hands move to remove the scraps of fabric left on him. They fall to the dirty ground with a soft sound, barely noticed by either of them. He cannot look at Joker directly now. He removes some wipes from another part of his belt.

"Stay still." He orders.

Joker doesn't respond, but he doesn't move either. Bruce starts to wipe away the dirt, blood and other things off of Joker carefully, the only sounds the scant bit of insects in the vague distance. The Joker had never been so quiet for so long and Bruce was surprised how much it unnerved him. Joker was a man of words, always, of quips and quotes and sharp jabs (and knives), never without something to say. A man who always needed to be _in motion_, with his little gestures and grand ones, a man who…

Bruce swallows.

_A man._

When had Bruce ever thought of him as something just like that, without anything else attached?

He finally moves from Joker's torso, down further, kneeling in front of him, hearing Joker's gasp.

"Bats." Joker says.

"Don't." Bruce says. Though to what, he isn't sure.

Joker grows quiet again, only his now trembling body giving anything away, as Bruce rubs his legs down carefully, rubs his feet with care, as if his hands hadn't just been inflicting punishment upon his surprisingly delicate skin just minutes before.

He moves up now, taking great care not to look at...certain places as he stands back up. He is back to eye level now with Joker, though he has yet to look him back in the face directly. Instead he uses the last of his wipes to wipe the blood from The Joker's face, holding the back of his neck carefully to keep him in place.

He wipes the blood from the cut over his eye, which thankfully wasn't as bad as it could have been, so it wouldn't need stitches (it had already ceased bleeding), wipes the blood from the clown's forehead and then finally, the blood that had gathered at the corner of his mouth. He tosses the wipes aside with the gloves.

"Why?" Joker breathes finally.

"I didn't want you to dirty the clothes." Bruce replies in return.

Joker laughs a wet sounding laugh and it's that sound which makes him look up-and to realize the position they are in, Bruce's hand cupping the back of Joker's neck, the two of them nearly pressed together. Joker's eyes expand as they look at him, the green getting overwhelmed by the black.

"Of course not." Joker giggles, though his face is not smiling. If it were raining, it would again remind him of- "Though forgive me, Batsy dear; as much as the thought of wearing anything you give me is so _tantalizing _it makes me tingly, I'm not one for so many blacks and-"

"...purple." Joker finishes weakly.

He held a purple shirt with gold outlines, which was not his usual attire of course, but he kept clothes in the batmobile in case he needed to change at a moment's notice for whatever reason or situation that might occur. The colors certainly didn't matter. He had only needed clothing (so he would definitely ignore that little voice in the back of his head once more that said he could have had grabbed clothes for Joker out of the compartment in seconds but _no_, he had sifted for the _one _set of purple clothing in there. Purple clothing that was the shade of everyday clothing that Joker would wear…)

"If you'd rather something else…" Bruce says blandly, keeping his face blank.

"No, no." Joker says quickly, snatching the shirt (and pants, which were equally as purple) from Bruce's gloved hands. He shimmies into the clothes with a practiced ease as Bruce steps back from him, as if used to getting dressed in a hurry (which Bruce was sure he was.)

He gets the passenger door open and pushes Joker towards it.

"I'm going, I'm going. No need to be so _rude, _Batsy! You don't want to wrinkle these nice clothes do you?" Joker asks, fluttering his eyes at Bruce, pout on his now bare lips. It was odd to see Joker without lipstick on his mouth more than it was to see him with it. It left him looking more...vulnerable, which was not a word he would use when describing The Joker to anyone.

Once Joker gets inside, the door closing (and locking) behind him, Bruce finally lets himself sigh a bit out loud, making his way around the car, one of his hands idly fingering a small part on his belt before forcing his hand away. He gets in on his side but doesn't immediately start the car, slapping one of Joker's hands off the dashboard when he tries to mess with some of the buttons.

"Enough." Bruce growls.

"But it gets so _boring_ on the way to Arkham. You never like to talk." Joker says, slouching a bit in his seat. "Wouldn't you rather I have something to keep me occupied instead of trying to find something to cut up?"

Bruce sighs and pushes a button on the dash, which turns on the radio, though the volume is greatly reduced.

Joker whistles. "Who knew the grim knight of Gotham liked such soft music? I'm impressed, Bats. But can we talk about why you gave me these clothes?"

"I _told_ you-"

"Yes, yes, Arkham-smarkam. Whatever you say, Bats."

Bruce takes a moment before replying, his hands clenched into fists.

"I didn't want you to go into Arkham like that.." Bruce finally says. "I didn't want-"

"You didn't want _what, _Bats?" Joker asks, a hardness in his tone.

He keeps his eyes plastered ahead of him, very deliberately not looking at The Joker, like he hadn't looked directly at him since getting into the car.

"I didn't want you to feel undignified." Bruce whispers.

Joker laughs. "_Undignified? _I've shown up there in much _worse_ shape than this! Clothes? What do I care if they see my naughty bits? They've seen them plenty in all their searches! Darling, you've had me nearly every which way a person can be had. In every way that you could-"

"That's enough." Bruce says.

He finally turns to look at Joker and stares. No lipstick on his face, a bit of a bruise blooming on his cheek, all but swimming in the clothes given to him by Bruce (no point in giving him shoes as they'd be taken away by Arkham anyway...but if that was the case then why give him clothes at all? He might have said what he did but…)

And yet, despite how ill they might fit, Bruce still cannot reconcile that Joker is in _Bruce's clothes_, despite how Bruce himself had been the one to give them to him. They were Bruce's clothes. Mundane (if a bit more expensive than usual) everyday clothes. He was used to the most wild and sometimes garish clothing imaginable on the clown prince, showing off to the city, to the world, to _Bruce _(_See me, Bats! See me like I see you.) _

So why did this feel _different? _

He swallows against his now dry throat. Joker was tall, but he was thin, much thinner than Bruce's muscular frame, (he could wrap his arms around his frame and still have room to spare to hold him) leaving him nearly swimming in the clothes. And yet… and _yet._

Joker starts to say something, but pauses when he looks up at Bruce's cowled face.

"Bats?" Joker asks, his green eyes wide and ever expressive in his face. "Batman? Look, Bats if you-"

"Shut up."

He pulls on Joker's shirt-_Joker in his clothing-_pulling him forward and silencing him himself with a deep and rough kiss. Joker moans and kisses back _ferociously _as if worried that this could stop at any moment. He is all teeth and warm mouth as Bruce pulls him into his lap, hands on his face as he deepens the kiss further, swallowing down Joker's disbelieving laugh, a hand moving to the back of his head.

"_Bats." _Joker hisses, moaning against his mouth. "_Stop and I'll blow up Gotham PD next chance I get."_

He moves his mouth from Joker's, ignoring his groan of loss and his mouth moves to kiss his face now, his neck, lingering on a patch of skin, sucking down on it, feeling a thrill as Joker's hands dig into him in response. His eyes turn to look up at Joker who looked both shell-shocked and-by the evidence growing between them-horribly aroused.

"Who said I was stopping?" Bruce asks, before going back to suck on the same spot.

"You…" For once Joker seemed truly at a loss for words.

While his mouth trails down Joker's neck, one of his hands starts to trail under his shirt, hissing when he can't feel it like he wants to with his gloved as they were. He pulls back.

"No, no," Joker grabs at him, trying to pull him close to kiss again but Bruce pushes him back. "Batsy, don't-"

"I'm not. I'm-shit." He curses, pulling at his gauntleted hands, cursing again as he fumbles to get them off.

He was never like this. Even in his most heated moments with someone, whether the few times he let his guard down with Selina or as Wayne, a local celebrity or socialite, he never lost control like this. His control was the thing he could count on most. It was the thing which had saved many lives over the years he had been Batman. Now he felt like a schoolboy fumbling around in the dark.

He looks up when Joker starts to work one of the gloves off. Joker notices, smiling almost shyly at him, making Bruce's breath catch.

"You forget that I have a lot of experience at touching you." Joker says.

"Annoying me." Bruce says, though he can't help but smile, despite himself.

"Loving you." Joker says.

The gloves fall to the floorboard and Bruce kisses Joker without answering him back in kind. Now, _now_ he can touch Joker. He sighs against his mouth as his bare hand touches skin, snaking it up slowly on Joker's body. He had touched him many times, but never, _never_, like this...he never allowed that. Never allowed The Joker that as much as Joker had wanted it, _longed _for it. Never allowed himself. He could never allow himself to truly face his feelings, Joker's, because if he did...if he allowed himself the thought that _Joker loves me_ then he-

He pulls back, pulling the shirt off of Joker, letting Joker hold his head close to him now, nearly cradling Bruce to his body, listening to the hyper beat of Joker's heart.

"Bat." Joker says quietly, as if afraid to break the silence.

Bruce moves his cowled head up to look at him.

"No." He tells him.

"Batsy."

"No." He tells him again.

"Batman." Joker is trembling visibly now.

"_No." _

Joker looks at him, his pale lips near swollen red now from their bruising kisses.

"J." Bruce says.

Joker closes his eyes. They remain closed as his hands reach forward, touching the cowl. Bruce stays still, watching the play of emotions over his face as he removes the cowl, which too gets tossed aside. Joker's eyes remain closed and Bruce strokes his face, holding back the urge to kiss him again.

"Bruce." Joker whispers.

Of course he knew. Bruce couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. Of course he had known all of this time who Bruce also was, under the mask.

He leans forward now and the tightness of their position is something he only really takes note of now; in the heat of the moment it had been easy to forget, but they would both be uncomfortable soon enough, especially from their earlier battle, which now felt as if it were hours away instead of the short time in had been. The world spun different for Bruce now.

It brought him back to that thought he had earlier, of not wanting to face Joker square on, because if he did...then he'd never be able to let him go.

Bruce did things obsessively. He knew this. It wasn't something he could actively help. He had been that way since he was a child, when that obsession kept him alive, when it made him decide to fight crime to pay something forward, to make his parents deaths _mean _something, that their lives had more meaning than just dying to a two bit criminal in Crime Alley. That he could protect people. So he learned obsessively and he trained obsessively and he fought crime with a single minded obsession that some (and he couldn't disagree with them all the time) said was unhealthy.

He also _loved_ obsessively.

He hits a button which pushes the seat they now shared back much farther, giving them more room. Joker laughs, though he still kept his eyes stubbornly closed.

"J, open your eyes." Bruce tells him, not unkindly.

"If I do..then all of this ends." Joker says.

"Why?"

"Why?" Joker repeats.

He moves a hand through Joker's hair, marvelling at how soft it was. He couldn't deny what he wanted now. That dam had been broken with no hope of repair.

"Why do you think this would end?" Bruce says, voice lowering as he moves closer to Joker's mouth. "Why do you think I would end this? I see you. That's what you've wanted all along, isn't it? Don't you think I've longed for someone to see _me_ in the same way?"

Joker's breath hitches.

"Open your eyes, J. And look at me. Please."

There… his green eyes slowly open, wet with unshed tears, looking into Bruce's blue, bright ones. He kisses each eye tenderly, before tilting his chin up, kissing him again. Joker falls immediately into the kiss, melting under Bruce's touch and instantly thinks heat back up between them, he bites down on Joker's lip, soaking in his moan, lets Joker's hand move over his armored body, listening to the clown hiss against him as he tries to gain better access to Bruce's body.

In return, Bruce moves a hand into Joker's pants and Joker jerks instantly against Bruce, a startled moan loosening from his mouth as Bruce's hand strokes his cock. It throbs against his hand, hard and silky.

"Stop," Joker whines, his hands fumbling with Bruce's codpiece now.

"Why?"

"You're not playing fair." Joker hisses.

Bruce laughs, startling them both. But the mirth still remains, even while Joker looks at him in wonder now.

"Who said I would play fair?"

Joker's head moves to Bruce's shoulder, leaning there. The feel of Joker like this, against his body was having just as much of an effect on him as he had obviously been having on Joker. Should he just stroke them both off? Certainly it was new for both of them, in the case of doing it with each other, but he wanted more.

"It's what you do." Joker mumbles against him.

"Not always."

"Mm."

He's struck then, beyond the want of his body, of how at...ease they were with one another. It wasn't like their history before this went away, no Bruce was as aware of it now as he knew Joker was. And it wasn't like he was deliberately forgetting the bad things the Clown Prince of Crime had done in favor of focusing only on his wants and desires. He would always regret many things. But all the same… being here now, with Joker like this, reminded him that there was so much _more_ to Joker than just the bad things. That there could be more of these better things, if only Bruce would let him in.

"I don't want to play fair now." Bruce admits.

"Then what do you want to do, Bruce?" Joker asks him.

"I want to fuck you in my car."

Joker laughs, delighted.

"Well how about that, darling! I was hoping for the same thi-"

Bruce kisses him quiet.

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After a couple minutes of dual fumbling with it (as they both were thoroughly distracted with kissing each other. God, how long had it been since _kissing_ could get him hard like this?) they manage to remove Bruce's codpiece and Joker looks down at Bruce's cock like he's just discovered gold. He immediately takes a hand to Bruce's cock, making him hiss out a breath as he starts to pump him.

"_Fuck."_ Bruce growls.

"You like that?" Joker asks, slyly. "_Bat _likes _Joker_ hands on his cock?"

"Yes." He breathes, kissing Joker quiet for a brief moment again before searching for something in his belt (which was sat next to them now; it had been digging in unpleasantly between them) "Luckily for you, I do. I like the thought of something else much better though."

"Mmm. And what's that, darling?" Joker says, green eyes bright as they look down at Bruce from his perch on his lap.

Bruce holds up the small bottle of lubrication, shaking it.

"Fucking you until neither of us can think straight again."

"Yes," Joker growls. He shimmies quickly out of the pants which end up in a pile at their feet.

He takes Bruce's face in his hands, kissing him deeply but softly, no teeth in sight, and the sudden shift has Bruce shivering in surprise. Joker always knew how to surprise him. But this felt much more deeply. God, Joker had been holding _back_ some of his feelings? All of that before, all of these years, was his way of holding back? He almost wanted to thank him for that. If Joker had come at him with this before, this pure strain of what could never be denied as anything _but _love...Bruce would have come apart.

_I-_

He bites back the words again, feeling the queer urge to cry just then. They never did anything by halves did they, he and J?

His hands shake a bit as he opens the lube, starting to push Joker back so he can apply it.

"No, let me. Fuck, Bruce you don't know how long I've wanted…" Joker bites off.

"I know." Bruce says. _Because I think I've wanted it just as long. As much as I hated myself for it. As much as I wanted to forget that. Forget you. But you've never let me forget. _

He hands over the lube, letting out a groan as Joker's hands move with surprising ease over Bruce's cock, covering it liberally in the lubrication before starting to position himself.

"Wait." Bruce says.

"I've waited long _enough, _Bats." Joker groans. He makes them both groan as he moves his ass over Bruce's cock. "_We _have waited long enough. Now quickly, before this coach turns back into a pumpk-ahh!"

He slides down Bruce's cock and the instant heat engulfing him nearly has him crying out. He was _tight. _Wet, deep, tight heat. He shifts and it makes Joker fall deeper onto him, nearly bottoming him out already. Despite the discomfort, Joker seemed… no _because _of that pain, that extra edge that Joker always loved (loved enough for both of them, because Bruce could never admit he liked the edge of pain as well)

Joker looks at Bruce with wide eyes.

"Bruce, please." Joker begs.

_God. _

But what did he want? They were both moving at a bruising pace as Joker rode Bruce's cock and by Joker's very visceral reaction, he liked it just as much as Bruce did. He uses one of his hands to grip Joker's side tightly and the other to start stroking his cock. Joker groans and shakes his head, leaning down to place his forehead against Bruce's.

"No." Joker pleads. "Bruce, please."

_Calling him by name again. _

"You want…" Bruce says, throat contracting.

Fucking was surprisingly easy, but then again...so had the rest of this. He had already let go of so much. What was letting go of the rest after all of this? But should he surprised or not what Joker wanted along with the delicious slide of pleasure between them, the tightness? Or should he just remember _that night_ that, despite everything, had a Joker who had nearly, _nearly,_ walked across darkened beams under Bruce's flashlight instructions?

Joker looks at him, his eyes expanding as they look at Bruce. His green eyes always painting such a vivid picture of how The Joker felt.

He cups the back of Joker's neck and kisses him, softly now, softer than any kiss they had between them the rest of the night. Joker cries out, fingers digging into Bruce's sides as hard as softly as Bruce had kissed him. He kisses him like that again and again, thrusting his body deep inside Joker's as Joker pushes down onto his cock, groaning against that push pull between them. Heat was building and the car had never felt this hot inside to him. He knew it wouldn't be long.

"You're the only one I've been with like this." He murmurs against Joker. Joker laughs again, brokenly this time and he can taste the salt tang of tears when he kisses him again. "And I'm only going to say this once, so listen closely, alright?"

Joker just digs his hands in closer, his movements atop Bruce more jerky now.

"J." Bruce says, holding his face in place, making him look at him. Joker's eyes were wild and wet and heartbreaking to look at. "I'm not planning to stop. Not as long as you want this too."

Joker shakes his head, but not because he doesn't want it, Bruce knows.

"Joker." They were still moving through this and he has to force him-them _both_-to stop, or else they'd both come before he could get out what he really wanted to say.

Joker moans and tries to move. "Bats-"

"Let me _tell _you."

Joker finally calms down enough for Bruce to feel confident to start thrusting again, biting back a moan. He moves his mouth to Joker's ear, letting them both build up that heat again and just the thought that he was _inside of Joker _nearly undoes him. And then:

"Happy anniversary, darling." He whispers.

Joker cries out and comes over the both of them, clinging to Bruce with a bruising strength and Bruce follows him immediately after, kissing him as he comes, letting Joker's body wring everything out of him; tension, worry, pain, letting it fall away for this moment. He collapses into the seat and Joker falls bonelessly atop him, letting out a pitiful moan when Bruce slowly extracts himself from Joker's body.

It's silent for awhile, save for their labored breathing which-slowly-starts to even out. He cradles Joker's body close to his, marvelling at how good it felt (a singular pleasure he had never allowed himself to examine before.) Things might go askew, as they often did, tomorrow, but for now… he had a warm, sated Joker against his equally sated body and he was...happy.

"How did you know?" Joker finally says, his voice raspy from their exertions.

"I wasn't sure in the beginning." Bruce admits. "But then I thought about it and everything seemed to fit. And my own thoughts on it... "

A year since the night at the funfair. Since he had extended his hand and asked Joker to stop what he was doing. When Joker spoke on two people at an asylum and how one was afraid to meet the other halfway.

"Was this your way of meeting me halfway?" He asks him quietly.

A year since bad things, horrible things...and sad ones as well.

And what he had done on their 'anniversary'? Barbara would never forgive him, probably. Alfred would be scandalized and Dick would have a hard time looking at him. Especially after… Jason.

He did not forget, would never forget, any of those actions done by this man, nor did he forgive them. He put justice to Joker every time it was necessary to. But he also couldn't ignore the part of him that were _not _dipped in deadly actions. If he could ignore them, then he never would have made that plea to him at the funfair to begin with. All of it just served to make him want to try again, to extend that hand and hope that Joker would accept that he wouldn't be led to fall.

"I can't be one of _them,_ Bruce." Joker says, hands clinging to the front of Bruce's armor now. "But you are the only one that can make me stop. And...the only one I _want_ to stop for." He peeks up at Bruce. "Mostly. I don't want to be one of those stay at home wives. You'd soon forget about me and find a new clown to play with!"

"What if I offered you a good dose of violence?" Bruce kisses his forehead.

Joker looks at him cautiously still.

"I have a lot of energy, Bats. You know that." Joker warns.

"Keeps me on my toes." Bruce agrees easily.

Joker snuggles closer. "You'd probably have to give me a good fucking a couple times."

"A night?"

"During your patrol! Please, Bruce! If we hadn't been fighting for hours before this, I'd have your cock in my mouth ready to go already! And anyway," Joker says slyly. "You can't tell me you don't have the same stamina, considering how we just fought."

"And fucked?" Bruce adds, raising a brow at him. Joker sniggers. Bruce tightens his arms around Joker. "I get it, J. I know this won't be easy; nothing with you ever is."

"I_ should _be insulted by that, but…" Joker shrugs.

"But if you can meet me halfway, then I'll do the same for you. Just...trust me."

"You trust me?" Joker asks.

"Yes." He says immediately, surprising both of them. His eyes soften. "So let me in."

It's quiet. Then:

"Pretty sure you just did that, darling. All that precious _bat_ fluid deep in my-"

He kisses Joker, which he's quickly learned is the best way to shut him up (better than any fist has ever done.)

He pushes Joker off of him, adjusting his armor back into place, setting the cowl back on with a practiced ease, and Joker gets into the passenger seat with a huff, climbing over Bruce to do so, giving him a prime view of much more pale skin (no, no time for that now…)

He hands over the clothing, thankful that it hadn't gotten messed up in their fucking. That was another thing… well he was unsure he'd ever be able to drive the Batmobile with anyone besides Joker for the next...forever (At this rate he wasn't going to be able to look at Alfred in the eye ever again.) Joker takes it with a huff, shimming them back on as easy as he had taken them off.

Moments later the Batmobile is finally off and Joker looks over at him, unable to handle the silence for a second longer (which didn't surprise him; he knew Joker hated the quiet.)

"So...back to Arkham." Joker slouches back in his seat, face starting to darken, despite all they had just shared together but moments before.

"Could be." Bruce says. It doesn't take long to reach near Arkham (he had tracked Joker to an area between Arkham and the Funfair-had apparently reached him before he could make it to the Funfair.) "But-"

Instead of taking the turn that would take them down the path to the gates, he continues on the path they were going down.

"But?" Joker asks, astounded.

"Arkham has bad food at the _best_ of times. And... " Bruce pauses. _No going back. I made that choice. We both made our choices. _"There's steak waiting at my manor."

Bruce watches as the first few droplets of rain hit the windshield of the car.

"Hmm."

He turns to look at Joker, who looks thoughtful. He turns to look at Bruce and smiles.

"I _love_ a good piece of meat. Especially if you're offering _seconds._" Joker waggles his green brows at him.

"Shut the fuck up, Joker." Bruce laughs.

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A/N: My first foray into writing specifically into The Killing Joke-verse! I've wanted to do so for quite awhile now and finally a really great idea that I couldn't ignore came to me for me to write it! It also ended up much longer than I expected it to be as I had originally set out with something else in mind, but I think this turned out even better than I had first envisioned!

I hope you enjoyed!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


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